


eudaimonia (virtue ethics)

by someawkwardprose



Series: a study in philosophy [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Character Death, Child Abuse, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Missing Scene, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slice of Life, Snippets, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:29:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23190193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someawkwardprose/pseuds/someawkwardprose
Summary: a series of snippets set in thediogenesuniverse. read the authors note for warnings!
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody & CT-7567 | Rex, CC-2224 | Cody & Luke Skywalker, CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: a study in philosophy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1629529
Comments: 95
Kudos: 334





	1. four years after - cody & luke

**Author's Note:**

> if you haven't read diogenes, this won't make any sense, so newbies, head there first!  
> chapter 1: four years after (fluff)  
> chapter 2: after mandalore (angst)  
> chapter 3: chapter 3 coda, obi-wan pov (...paperwork?)  
> chapter 4: her name is bolt (oc fic + angst)  
> chapter 5: alternate chapter 5, the bad ending (MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH + SUICIDE TW)  
> chapter 6: chapter 4 coda, rex pov of kadavo (torture, angst)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is fluff, with only the barest hint of a plot. not all this series will be fluff, but I think we deserve some softness, don't you?

“Uncle Cody, will you tell me a story?” 

Luke glances up at him shyly, big blue eyes bright and pleading. Cody knows it’s an act, but he still melts at it anyway, putting his padd down and letting the five year old climb into his lap. Rex was right, the bastard. Cody was getting soft in his old age.

“Sure, _ad’ika._ What do you want to hear?” 

“Tell me about the Jedi again! Please!”

Of course. The Jedi stories were his favourites, child-safe versions of their escapades during the war. He wondered if those were stories Skywalker would have told, if he were still around, and abruptly stopped that thought. It didn’t matter what Skywalker would have wanted, because Skywalker was gone. Luke was Cody’s, now. 

But it was nearing the anniversary. Obi-Wan had bags under his eyes again, and was waking up with the names of long-dead friends on his lips. The younglings - who weren’t so young anymore, kriff, Ylena turned ten last week - had all begun to withdraw into themselves, haunted by memories no kids should have. And Rex and Obi-Wan weren’t here, where Cody could keep an eye on them, keep them safe. No, a Jedi story was not a good idea. Not today. 

“How about I tell you a cadet story instead?” Cody asks, bouncing the little boy on his knee and relishing Luke’s grin. Kamino was an easier topic, at least. “It’s got Uncle Rex in it.” 

“ _Bavo’du?”_

His throat felt tight. He’d never seen Mandalore, and now, he never would, but it was his heritage. There were twelve children on the farm right now, all learning Mando’a, and perhaps the old ways were gone, crushed under the heel of the Empire, but there were twelve little _Mando’ade_ growing up here, on a desert planet, far from _Manda’yaim._

“Almost right! You want a little more emphasis on the V there, buddy,” he encourages. “Bah-Vodu.” 

_“Ba’vodu!”_

“Good job!” Cody says, tickling him under the arms. Luke’s shrieks drew attention from across the courtyard, and through the kitchen doorway he could see Beru look up with an eyebrow raised, but she quickly turns back to her work, knowing her nephew was safe. 

“No! No tickles!” 

“Alright, no tickles,” he eases up. “You wanna hear it?” 

“Yeah!” 

“Once upon a time, there were a lot of children with the same faces…” 

* * *

It’s late by the time Rex returns, looking brittle and worn, but triumphant.

“ _Reyshe’a vod’e,_ ” Rex whispers as he slips into their room, careful not to wake Luke, who had refused to leave Cody’s side all night. He’s asleep now, tucked into Cody’s chest, and it makes something in him ache to see him so comfortable. Cody never had that. None of his _vod’e_ did, except maybe Boba. 

“Five?” he repeats. “I thoought there were only two in the transmission?” 

“Ask your husband,” Rex replies, shedding his armour. “He sensed the other three. But I think I know who it is now, the one who’s sending the freed _vod_ our way.” 

“Who?” 

Rex smiles, a flash of white in the almost-darkness. “Fox.” 

Cody’s breath catches. 

_Vod’e_ were being phased out, replaced by those with actual loyalty to the Empire instead of chips in their heads, and the decommissioned troopers were being ‘returned to Kamino’. Cody could read between the lines. Yet over the past year the Rebellion had received close to a hundred ‘decommissioned’ clones, who’d all woken up one morning, not on a death ship, but with their chip removed and scribbled instructions on their hands about how to contact various Rebellion agents. At first, the Rebellion were worried they had a mole, but slowly they’d come to realise they had someone on the inside. Sometimes, they would have other information scribbled on their bodies - information that saved lives. 

Fox was still on Coruscant. He still had command of the Coruscant Guard, as far as Organa could tell. He would be placed highly enough to hear snippets. 

“He always knew more than he let on,” Cody breathes, and smiles. 

“Your entire batch was mental, _vod,_ ” Rex says, and gestures at Luke. “Want me to take him?” 

“Yeah. Ben’s been thrashing,” he says, and Rex gives him a sympathetic wince as he lifts the five year old with an ease Cody envies. He doesn’t go far, just to the mattress on the other side of the room. Space was limited in the compound, and all of them were used to sharing. “Where is he?” 

“Finishing with ‘Soka,” Rex slid into his bed, and made a face, presumably realising the Luke had starfished the moment he’d been laid down. “He said he’d be a little while. Go to sleep, _Kote._ We’re safe.” 

* * *

He doesn’t mean to drift off, but he must, because the next thing he knows is Obi-Wan sliding under the sheet beside him, his body cool from the night air. He hums questioningly, curling an arm around Obi-Wan’s waist. 

“Shh,” Obi-Wan hushes, covering his hand with his own. “ _Nuhoy, cyare._ ” 

Cody pulls Obi-Wan closer, tucking his head into the junction of his husband's shoulder and neck. Obi-Wan huffs a soft laugh, and covers Cody’s hand on his stomach with his own. He’ll no doubt wake them both up, later, or perhaps Cody will - but it’s fine. They’re safe.

Luke’s soft snores and Rex’s little mumbles lull them both to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mando’a  
> Mando’ade: lit. children of Mandalore, Mandalorians  
> Manda’yaim: Mandalore  
> Ba’vodu: Uncle/Aunt (gender neutral, english PLEASE catch up)  
> Reyshe’a vod’e: five siblings  
> Kote: Glory, Cody’s name in Mando’a  
> Nuhoy, cyare: sleep beloved


	2. after mandalore - codywan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon: sup my dude you said a prompt for the diogenes universe and?? I was just wondering hmm maybe something after the whole mandalore ordeal? like after Maul?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: oh I want a soft prompt to pad out the next super angsty snippet  
> anon (you know who you are and you will pay for your sins): make us suffer
> 
> so this? not my fault. 
> 
> warnings: angst, implied unwanted sexual contact in the past, insecurity, mourning, talk about future possible death, and general just Not Great Feelings.

The viewport offered the sight of the galaxy Cody was trying to protect, but it held very little interest for him right now. Obi-Wan had vanished the moment he’d boarded, and it had taken Cody over an hour to find him, tucked away in a disused viewing gallery. Originally, he’d wanted to help his _cyare_. But searching for Obi-Wan has allowed him time to think, and Cody has never done well left alone with his thoughts. The taste of envy and - not betrayal, exactly, but bitterness - coats his tongue like ash. It’s selfish, and terrible, but Cody can’t help it. 

“You loved her,” he forces out past the lump in his throat, sitting next to Obi-Wan on the couch, the sole piece of furniture in the room.

“I did,” his General says dully, and Cody’s heart feels like stone in his chest. “I would have stayed, if she’d asked me to. I was nineteen, and foolish, and - I wanted that. I wanted to know someone loved me, _wanted_ me. Qui-Gon didn’t. Most of the Order didn’t. Satine did.” 

Obi-Wan looks at him, eyes ringed red, lips a tight line. “You have to understand - I would have done _anything_ to be wanted. I would have let her - well. I did let her.” 

Cody’s jaw is clenched so tight he’s worried he’ll crack a tooth. They’ve talked about this before; about how Obi-Wan had pushed himself, had forced himself into situations he hadn’t wanted to be in. It wasn’t the Duchess’ fault, he knew - it had taken Obi-Wan years to realise who he was, what he liked and didn’t like, and it wasn’t anyone’s fault that he couldn’t establish his own boundaries until he had a Padawan of his own (no one’s fault, except, perhaps, Qui-Gon _karking_ Jinn), but it made him - 

It made him want to hit something. Cody has changed his mind. He doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. 

“You don’t have to-” 

“I do, Cody. You deserve to know.” 

“I don’t -” Cody protests, because Obi-Wan is hurting, and maybe Cody is jealous, maybe he hated Duchess Kryze, hated what she took from his _cyare_ , hated what she stood for - but she hadn’t deserved this, and neither did his General. Cody was a clone, and she had been a Duchess, and in his heart of hearts, Cody knew what his _cyare_ deserved. 

“You are my - partner,” his General hesitates over the word, because it isn’t true, not really, not while the war is on and Cody is his subordinate, and Obi-Wan is a _jetii_. “You need to know that - I _did_ love her, I still do.” 

Cody closes his eyes, but his General isn’t finished. 

“Cody, look at me,” he demands, and Cody’s eyes snap open, because Obi-Wan _never_ ordered him, outside of the battlefield. “I loved her Cody, but _not like that._ Satine was - a friend. A good one. I will mourn her loss. Maul targeted her, because he knew it would hurt me. But I’m not nineteen anymore _._ I chose you. Not Satine.” 

Obi-Wan lays his hand over Cody’s, tightens his fingers over Cody’s limp ones. Cody tries to relax, but he can’t. “She was a Duchess,” Cody says. “I’m just a -” 

“You’re not _just_ anything,” Obi-Wan snaps, then sighs, closing his eyes. “Cody, dearheart. Do you know what I’ve thought about ever since it happened? I’m a terrible person, because Satine is _dead,_ and yet - all I could think about is _you._

“Do you understand why the Jedi Order bans attachment, Cody? Anakin certainly doesn’t. All Padawan’s struggle with the concept,” he says, no longer able to look Cody in the eye. He’s staring out into the stars they pass instead, and his voice is cold, empty. “Attachment, to a person - that is typically the first part of a Jedi’s Fall. You and I both know that the collective good comes first, of course - you can be attached and still do the right thing. But it is so _simple_ to manipulate someone through their attachments.”

Obi-Wan turns back to him then, and there’s something dark in his eyes; it makes Cody think of a wounded animal, striking out in fear and fury.

“I’ve been meditating on how I wouldn’t have stopped myself if it had been you. If Maul had realised how important you were to me - if he’d hurt you...Cody I would have let that anger consume me. He would have won, if he’d chosen you.” 

“You would have Fallen?” Cody asks, shocked, and appalled at himself; at the possessive curl of pride in his stomach. The depth of what Obi-Wan was confessing - 

“Yes,” he says simply. “Does that scare you?” 

It should. _It should._ Cody has seen what damage the Sith wrought - he’d spent three years fighting them. He’s heard tales of the Sith of Old in all their horrifying glory; he knows why the surface of Mandalore is what it was today. 

“No,” Cody replies, because it’s Obi-Wan. Then, because he can’t lie to this man. “And yes. But not for the reasons you think.” 

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow, and while the dangerous look abates a little, something lingers. Cody realises abruptly that it’s Obi-Wan’s own fear. 

“You wouldn’t hurt me,” he says, suddenly confident in this. “I know you wouldn’t. But I’m scared for you. I don’t want you to lose yourself, _cyare._ Not for me.” 

Obi-Wan laughs bitterly. “One day, we’ll have to deal with your self-worth problem,” he says. “Cody, regardless of whether I Fall or not, losing you would kill me.” 

And really, what can Cody say to that? He knows what would happen to him, if he lost Obi-Wan on the battlefield. He knows what happens to _vod’e_ who lose their _cyare’se._

“I suppose we both just have to promise not to go anywhere the other can’t follow,” he says, and wishes that he could definitely keep that promise. 

“I suppose we do,” Obi-Wan replies. 

“I’m sorry. For your loss,” Cody says. Jealousy curls at the back of his throat, but in the wake of such a confession, he can push it away. His _cyare_ lost someone today, and if nothing else, Cody knows that feeling intimately. 

“She asked about you, you know,” Obi-Wan says, the barest hints of mirth at the corners of his lips. “Teased me something awful about having a taste for Mandalorians.”

Cody tugs on Obi-Wan’s hand, urges his General to lean into him. Obi-Wan resists for a moment before sinking into Cody’s embrace, lying against his chest. It makes something in Cody’s sternum ache when he realises his General is listening to his heartbeat, and he leans down to press a kiss into the man’s hair. It’s a liberty he normally wouldn’t take, but he makes an exception. Just for today. 

“Tell me about her?” 

Cody closes his eyes as Obi-Wan spins tales of a young boy, his Master, and fugitive royalty, and tries not to think about what they deserve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mando'a translations:  
> cyare - beloved  
> jetii - jedi  
> vod'e - siblings  
> cyare'se - loved ones


	3. chapter 3 coda - codywan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vox asked for: doing paperwork together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we have an Obi-Wan POV! it only took 24k! 
> 
> pre-confession here, but fluff nonetheless.

Even in wartime, it was impossible to escape bureaucracy. It had become tradition, at this point, for Obi-Wan to find himself in Cody’s office in the late hours of the ship’s day cycle, paperwork in hand and a rueful smile on his face. His commander always seemed to know he was coming, as the cup of tea waiting on the edge of the desk showed. Obi-Wan truly didn’t deserve him.

He sighed as he looked up from his pile of padds, only to see Cody practically nodding off into his own. His lips twitched, but he refrained from smiling. He refused to find his commander _cute._ It was unprofessional. 

Even if Cody and he had been dancing around the boundary of _professional_ a lot, recently, Obi-Wan refused to make that move. Cody was very dear to him; as a friend and a colleague - no longer a subordinate, since the last round of promotions. He wouldn’t risk it. Not yet. 

Breha had called him a coward, but Obi-Wan had long since learned there were worse things to be. 

He stood up and stretched, making a face at the noise his back made. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Cody rouse himself somewhat, so when he headed to the tiny kitchenette he pulled two mugs down, filling one with the horrible instant caff all of his troopers seemed to live off of. One day, he would bring them round to tea, but they had been doing this for hours, and Cody deserved the caffeine. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Cody jerk himself awake and glare half-heartedly at the pile he had left, and this time, he couldn’t stop the burst of fondness in his chest. Unprofessional or not, Obi-Wan cared deeply about the man, and well. _Adorable_ was a juvenile word, but it fit Cody _so well._ After dumping a ridiculous amount of sweetener in Cody’s mug - he always pretended he liked the stuff at its vilest, but Obi-Wan knew better - he propped his hip against Cody’s desk.

“Commander,” he said, biting back an amused smile at the bleary look he received, and offered Cody’s mug to his commander.

“ _Vor’e,_ ” Cody rasped, and Obi-Wan winced sympathetically. The Force around the man echoed with exhaustion, and this close, Obi-Wan could see the tired lines etched around Cody’s eyes. 

“Two hours, and then you’re going to bed,” Obi-Wan said. 

“You’ve slept as much as I have, hypocrite,” Cody - well, not snapped, because he was not the kind to, but there was definitely a _tone_ in his voice that was typically not directed at Obi-Wan. 

He sighed. “And I have the Force to draw upon, Commander.” 

“These reports need to be finished before morning,” Cody grumbled. “I know you have just as many.”

“And I can still see straight,” Obi-Wan says. “You’re exhausted, Commander. You can’t do anything like this.”

Unlike Cody, however, Obi-Wan had the dubious pleasure of _not_ doing drills in the morning, and had a little more time on his hands. But he also knew that Cody was looking for an excuse _not_ to sleep.

The war was hard on all of them, but it had been weighing harder on his commander as of late. Obi-Wan understood, to a certain extent - he had been there when Cody had heard the news of Commander Ponds’ death; the absolute look of devastation on his face when six shinies, fresh from Kamino, were mowed down by droideka’s. He’d watched Cody fuss over Captain Rex - subtly, but nonetheless evident, if one knew what to look for. He knew all about the nightmares.

But Cody was tired, and Obi-Wan wanted to help him. He took back the mug he’d given the commander, and sighed. “Cody.” 

Cody glared at him weakly, before accepting Obi-Wan’s offered hand with clear reluctance. Obi-Wan counted it as a minor victory, tugging him to his feet before gently shepherding the man towards the bunk in the corner of the room. He hesitated for a moment, before unclipping the various pieces of armour, as quickly and impersonally as possible. Cody was dead on his feet, and Obi-Wan told himself that it wasn’t taking advantage, just helping a friend. He guided Cody under the blankets, tucking them around his ears, and, giving into impropriety, he placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Sleep well, my dear Commander,” he whispered, a soft Force suggestion threaded in the words. 

He turned back to the piles of pads on the desk, and winced, feeling every bit as old as Anakin thought he was. But the Force provided him what he needed, and unlike Cody, Obi-Wan could stand to miss out on one more night’s sleep. Cody was worth it.

When he left, minutes before the ship's day cycle engaged, it was with a cloud of exhaustion and satisfaction. On the table, there was a neat stack of paperwork waiting for his commander’s signature, and Cody had slept for close to six hours. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me? write something with only word of mando'a? it's more likely than you think! 
> 
> vor'e: thanks.


	4. Her Name Is Bolt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> innocent-until-proven-geeky asked: I have come to the realization that I have no idea how Bolt got her scar and I’m desperately curious.
> 
> (warnings for kamino, including child abuse, both emotional and physical, violence resulting in severe injuries towards a child, and jango fett being a bit of a bastard - but not the hurter of said child, plus the accidental use of the wrong pronouns by characters not in the know)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long time no see, I've been an exam stricken then depressed mess but I am getting back on the saddle now. with 2000 words about my oc, and not content about the main characters. whatever. 
> 
> please read the warnings in the chapter summary, this is NOT very nice to Bolt, but she recovers, and the ending is relatively happy. 
> 
> big shout out to thedisasternerd (on ao3/tumblr) for beta'ing this chapter at a ridiculous time this morning! the next one will be cody focused, I swear

When she is six - because she is she, even before she knew, and we will not disrespect her by pretending otherwise - she is the last member of her batch without a name. 

CC-6548 or, Forty-Eight, as her batchmates insist on calling her, hasn’t found her name yet. It’s been two years since Cody - _Kote,_ really, and who was he to point fingers, naming himself _glory_ of all things - announced to the world that he was an individual, and most of the vod’e have followed his example. Forty-Eight supports him, of course; Cody suits him far better than _twenty-four,_ and it takes a lot of guts to look Jango Fett in the eye and tell him _no._ She loves every one of her siblings, and she knows, even now, that she would kill for them. But the way they keep pressuring her to choose her name - it irks her. 

_It will come when you’re ready,_ Fox says every time the topic comes up, and eventually the conversation moves on. She’s never thanked him, but he’s never asked for thanks. 

“You don’t think I’m weird, do you?” she asks, once, when they’re doing patrol training together. 

Fox, as was his wont, avoids her eyes, but she can see something of a smirk on his face. “You know who you’re talking to?” 

She rolls her eyes. “You picked a name almost as fast as _Kote.”_

“I didn’t,” Fox says, glancing at her, then away again. “Veer helped me choose.” 

“That’s still picking it, Fox,” she says, and shot one of the training droids attempting to sneak up on them. 

“I just wanted to match Wolffe,” Fox murmurs, clearly shutting down again. 

She doesn’t sigh, but it’s close. Fox was too insular - even for her. He relied on Veer like a crutch, and worshipped the ground Wolffe walked on, but couldn’t communicate with half their batch, despite caring about them all. One day, he would have to deal with a General, and he wouldn’t have her or Veer or Wolffe, and then where would he be? 

“Maybe I should just choose a normal name, and add extra letters,” she says instead of voicing that. “It seems to work for Wolffe.” 

Fox doesn’t reply for a while, and she doesn’t push; sometimes he just couldn’t keep talking. But, sometimes, he just needed a little while to put the words together. “It’ll come to you. You just have to give it time.” 

She doesn’t say, _isn’t two years enough time,_ or _maybe I should just let Veer name me, you know he’s dying to_ , and they spend the rest of their shift in a comfortable silence

* * *

“That’s enough!” Jango snarls at Priest, when he makes Fox keep running, long after everyone else has stopped, till her brother drops with exhaustion. “Let him breathe for kark’s sake!”

From the corner of her eye, she can see Veer biting his lip, but Wolffe has a hand wrapped around their brother’s wrist, so he can’t go and draw attention to himself. The only thing that would hurt Fox more is if Priest turns his sight on his twin.

“He’s not going to get any better if he doesn’t work for it,” Priest says, and she would love to punch the smug smirk off of his face, but she forces herself to stay where she is. He already knows she cares about him, after helping Fox with his broken ankle. She can’t make a target of herself. “Maybe he just doesn’t have what it takes to be _Manda.”_

“You couldn’t do 100 laps in armour with no preparation, Dred,” Jango says, and his eyes are _angry._ She doesn’t think she’s seen it before. “That’s the third time I’ve seen you singling out this cadet. I catch you again, I’ll make you do 200, after I’ve hamstrung you. Got it?” 

Instructor Reau glares, but Priest just smiles. “Of course, Jango. Whatever you say, Jango.” 

Jango doesn’t stop glaring, but offers Fox a hand up. Fox flinches, but takes it. Forty-Eight _seethes_ at the fear on his face, even if no one else would be able to see it. 

“He pulls that _osik_ again, you come to me,” Jango orders, and follows Priest and Reau out of the training yards. 

Immediately, Veer is all over his _t’ad,_ but a quick look from Wolffe has her over by his side. 

“He’s not gonna stop,” Wolffe says. “He isn’t scared of Jango.” 

She thinks about the glee on Priest’s face, when Fox had slipped up during a terrain exercise. The way that Fox’s ankle had cracked. The way Priest had singled out the quietest cadet in their batch, and picked on him constantly, whenever he was their instructor. Her _vod’e_ can be a lot - but they aren’t bullies. Not like Priest is. 

“So what are we going to do about it?” she asks, and Wolffe smirks. 

* * *

Priest spends some nights in Reau’s - his _venriduur’s_ \- quarters, but sometimes, she comes to his. Luckily (or unluckily, depending on your point of view), that night he goes to hers. And so they break in. 

Wolffe looks disappointedly at the armour shelf. 

“No true _Mando’ade_ would leave their armour alone in their room, unprotected,” she tuts, ignoring all of the security measures they had to disable to enter. 

“Really, we’re doing him a favour,” he reasons, hefting the paint cans up. “He said that lessons must be harsh to teach.” 

Red paint on armour meant honouring a parent, Kal Skirata once taught them, but Priest’s armour was plastered in it, like some gory kind of artwork. _Light green,_ Skirata had said cautiously, _means peace. But many take it to mean cowardice._

“Wait,” she said, before Wolffe started opening the cans. “Paint is easy to come off. I want to give him a lasting lesson.” 

Together, they cut holes in the crotch of all his under-armour, and underwear. They tore up his sheets, and she delicately bent the armour latches, so they would never sit quite right. Then, she dunked his helmet in the bucket, while Wolffe poured the paint sloppily over the chest plate, splashing the floor in a sea of pale green. Forty-Eight uses her finger to paint on the walls, and scratches the same word onto the drying chestplate, just to make sure the message sinks in. 

_Hut’uun,_ it reads. 

No one gets to pick on their brother. 

* * *

_“Which one of you little bastards was it?”_ Priest shouts, and she hides a smirk. She hopes Wolffe’s poker face has gotten better since their last game, because Priest is half dressed, holding his chest plate aloft. He must have run through the halls like that. She didn’t expect him to humiliate _himself._

_“You,”_ he snarls, and her heart drops. But it isn’t her he’s pointing at, or even Wolffe - no, he’s got his eyes on Fox, and there’s something twisted on his face, something that screams _danger_. But there’s no Jango Fett to save them, not here in their dorm room. 

“It was me,” she says, dragging his attention away from her _vod’ika._

She hears a murmur of voices, but she doesn’t look away from the threat. _“You?”_

“Me,” she says, and shows her teeth. “Big man in your armour - what are you underneath? A pathetic little man who gets his kicks out of being cruel? Some _Mando’ade_ you are.” Some part of her knows that this is stupid - that goading him is like looking a krayt dragon in the eye. But she _is_ a Mandalorian, and that’s her little brother. _Vode an,_ and all that. 

The fear starts, really, when he pulls out the vibroblade.

She dodges the first blow, but he’s taller than her, stronger and older, and with far more experience and blind rage on his side. She’s smart, and she’s fast, but there’s nowhere to run, and it isn’t long before she’s on the ground. 

It _hurts._ He’s kicking her in the ribs - something cracked - but he’d caught her face, with the blade, and then the boot once he got her down, and she’s bleeding, begging the _Ka’ra_ that her eye’s okay. There’s Wolffe, trying to yank Priest away from her, but the man slashes at his chest and he falls away, and then there’s Fox -

It stops, and she blinks, dazed, as _Baar’ur_ Gilamar leans over her. “By the _Ka’ra,”_ he murmurs, “Easy, son, don’t try to move -” 

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Priest being hauled away - that’s Jango’s armour, how did he, no, Cody’s at the door, Cody always thought Jango could fix anything - and then a hypo is pressed into her neck, and she knows no more. 

* * *

“You _di’kut!”_ is the first thing she hears when she wakes up. 

“Fox, sh, Forty-Eight is still-” she hears Veer try to soothe, but she groans and drags herself into full consciousness. 

“Y’r ‘kay?” she tries. 

“Am I okay? You nearly got yourself killed!” 

“Fox, come on-” 

“Mm. Wolffe?” 

Veer sighs, clamps a hand over his twin's mouth, and says. “He’s fine. It’s a flesh wound, Br. Gilamar is seeing him now. You’ve only been unconscious for half an hour, _please_ go back to sleep.” 

“No,” she manages, just to be contrary. “Let Fox speak.” 

Veer drops his hand, wiping it subtly on his uniform, and Fox makes an inarticulate noise of rage, throwing himself onto her bed. 

She takes a moment, because she knows that he doesn’t like to be touched, but she rubs at his back as he buries his face into her blanket covered stomach. It doesn’t hurt, so Gilamar must have used the good drugs. 

“Hey, I’m alright,” she murmurs. 

“You weren’t,” Fox says, voice muffled. “There was so much blood. Your face -” 

Her free hand automatically went to her face, and she feels it - the thick, ropey scar, trailing from her forehead down, bisecting her eyebrow, cheek, neck. It stops at her collarbone. 

“He saved your eye,” Veer said softly. “But…” 

“Well,” she says, too numb to truly feel the hysterics that are sure to come. “At least you’ll never mistake me for Wolffe ever again.” 

“I’m sorry,” Fox says, and his shoulders hitch. 

“This isn’t on you, _di’kut,”_ she says. “It’s on that bastard. And - even if I had lost my eye. You would be worth it.” 

He has nothing to say to that, but he holds her a little closer. 

* * *

Gilamar sends her brother’s away with Wolffe, but he keeps her in the medbay, for observation. 

“He did a number on you, kid,” he says, looking at her readouts. “I’m surprised you’re even conscious. You’ve gotta be the stubbornest cadet alive.” 

“Can I go to the ‘fresher?” she asks, not acknowledging that. 

“...You’ve got a catheter in.” 

“Not to - I want to see. The scar.” 

“Ah,” he says. “Give me a moment. I’ve got a hand mirror, somewhere.” 

He drops the mirror on her lap, and bustles away, clearly trying to give her privacy, despite the open plan medbay. She takes a deep breath, and looks at her reflection. 

It isn’t pretty. The scar is red and raw, and while it will fade with time, it will always be the first thing anyone will see when they look at her. It isn’t a clean line either - the vibroblade wasn’t steady, and the mark it left was an ugly, jagged thing. 

“Mij,” she hears, and then suddenly Jango Fett is in the doorway. He’s lost half his armour somewhere down the line. 

“ _Alor,_ ” Br. Gilamar greets. “You left anything for me to treat?” 

“He was alive when I left,” Jango says with a shrug. “Whether he’ll still be when you get down there…” 

“Fuck you too sir,” Gilamar says, but it’s almost cheerful. “You better have made him hurt. The kid’s got three broken ribs, concussion, and almost lost his eye.” 

“Go see for yourself.” 

Gilamar grabs his medkit and nods at her as he goes. Leaving her alone with Jango Fett. 

Who takes the seat next to her bedside. 

“That was stupid,” he tells her bluntly. “He outclassed you in every way.” 

“He was gonna hurt my brother,” she says.

“Yeah, he was,” he says. “Good job.” 

There’s still blood on his hands, she realises, crusted onto his knuckles. He must have taken his gloves off while he was with Priest. 

“He’ll be lucky if he ever walks again,” Jango says when he sees her looking. _“Mando’ade_ \- we don’t hurt kids. Ever.”

She doesn’t _get_ Jango Fett. 

He calls himself their _Alor,_ but only Boba can call him _buir._ He watches Cody with proud eyes, but doesn’t stop him from pushing himself too hard. He tells them they’re people, but he doesn’t stop the longnecks from dragging away her _vod’e_. 

She doesn’t get why he nearly killed Priest for her, when he’s training her to die on a battlefield for a Republic she’s never seen.

She doesn’t voice that though. 

“He better have a scar,” she says. “Or I’ll have to return the favour.” 

“And that’s why you are _mandokar,_ and he’s the _hut’uun,”_ and here, Jango gives her a proud smile. “The first ones - those hit you hardest. But you’ll get used to it.” 

His hand comes up to her face, one bloody finger gently tracing the line. “Looks kind of like a lightning bolt, if you look. There are worse things to wear.” 

_Lightning,_ she thinks as she goes to sleep. Beautiful and deadly. 

* * *

The next day she’s allowed out, just in time for midmeal with her batchmates. They stare at her as she sits down - even Cody’s hanger-on, Rex - until Wolffe glares at them all. 

“Alright?” he asks lowly, hooking his ankle around her own. She presses back, and meets his eyes across the table. 

“Yeah,” she says, and bumps her shoulders against Fox. “I found it.” 

“Found what?” Veer asks, on Fox’s other side. 

“My name.” 

Fox tilts his head in her direction, and the rest of the table goes quiet.

“Oh?” Bly says.

“My name is Bolt,” she says, and that’s that. 

* * *

Five years later, she meets a Senator’s aide.

“Commander Bolt, she/her,” she introduces herself, and catches the way the woman’s eyes trace her scar, the stylised lightning on her armour. “Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to take shelter.” 

“Aliyyah Antilles, she/her as well,” the woman says, and smiles sweetly. Her teeth are very white. “I love your hair. We have some spare blasters and ammunition if your troops need them.” 

She will not realise, until much later, that the swooping feeling in her stomach is falling in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando’a  
> Manda - state of being mandalorian, having mandokar  
> Osik - shit  
> T’ad - twin (thanks to RobinPlaysTrumpet15)  
> Venriduur - future spouse  
> Mando’ade - Mandalorian  
> Hut’uun - coward  
> Vode an - Siblings all  
> Baar’ur - medic  
> Di’kut! - idiot  
> Alor - leader  
> Buir - parent  
> Mandokar- the *right stuff*, the epitome of Mando virtue - a blend of aggression, tenacity, loyalty and a lust for life


	5. alternate chapter 5, the bad ending - Cody & Rex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cody gets free of the Empire, and does what he's always done: protected Rex. It's not what anyone wanted. 
> 
> WARNING: ANGST AHEAD. suicide TW, MCD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot emphasise enough that this is angsty, and not my usual offerings, but this was the alternate ending I linked to in chapter 4 and I want to keep all the diogenes related writings together. please, please read the warnings. luckily it's short. and I did promise cody content last chapter, so technically I am delivering

“Cody?”

The traitor is on the other end of his blaster. _Rex_ is on the other end of his blaster. His hand trembles, as CC-2224 and Cody fight for control - _shut up shut up SHUT UP I WILL NOT KILL MY BROTHER_ -traitor- _WE’RE THE TRAITOR, WE KILLED_ -a traitor!- _we killed Obi-Wan, say it! say his name! you love him you bastard, don’t you dare forget his name_ -HE IS DEAD- _but Rex isnt!_ -

Rex sees the conflict in the amber eyes, genetically identical, but so different from his own. He sees the moment Cody wrests enough control to smile at him.

“It’s alright, Rex. Love you. _K'oyacyi_ , _vod’ika_.”

Rex lunges forward, but he’s too late, and the blaster discharges.

* * *

Cody - not CC-2224, never CC-2224 - is put to rest in a way most of his siblings never were. Rex digs the grave himself as Ahsoka watches. She offered to use the force, but Rex - Rex didn’t want that. Cody deserved better.

“ _Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la_ ,” he whispers placing a hand on the stone, _Kote_ carved on it in a shaky mandalorian hand.

He’d lived with glory, and died with honour. Rex would remember him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a:  
> K’oyacyi, vod’ika: stay alive, little brother  
> Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la: not gone, merely marching far away.  
> Kote: glory


	6. kadavo - Rex & Obi-Wan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> innocent-until-proven-geeky asked for: Hey can I...Can I request an Angst? Your take on Kadavo and also like, a more detailed version of when Obi and Rex return. 
> 
> not quite their return, but it certainly is kadavo, where they have breaking a man down to an artform

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i take no responsibility for this angst. tbh i take no responsibility for this chapter bc I hated writing it (sorry rexy baby but ur pov SUCKS and i shalln't be doing that again) and nobody but me has beta'd it and even then it was a skim read because it has been sitting in my drafts for two weeks. 
> 
> warnings for: angst, like, a lot of it, torture, dissociation, psychological torture. just a boatload of warnings. sorry.

He’s always liked Cody’s _Jetii,_ even before he became his brother’s _cyare._ General Kenobi was General Skywalker’s _aliit,_ and even though Skywalker would never say so, Rex can tell he looks up to Kenobi the same way Rex looks up to Cody. Kenobi also looks after his troops, and Rex appreciates that, likes the way that, even more than his trainee, Kenobi didn’t put himself above the _vod’e,_ was willing to get on the ground with them even when the situation looked dire. 

After Skywalker (and ‘Soka, but she barely counts, practically a _vod_ herself), Kenobi was the General Rex worked with the most. Every battalion had a sense of pride towards their General, the good ones at least, and the 212th rivalled the Wolfpack in their affection towards Kenobi - but so too did Rex’s troops. The 212th and 501st considered him their joint General, and when Skywalker had heard, he’d thrown his head back and laughed. “Don’t tell him that,” he advised, a smile still playing around on his lips, even as Rex noted the bitterness in his eyes. “He’s at me enough about ‘our’ Padawan.” 

He likes Kenobi for other reasons, personal reasons, because it’s so rare to get a smile out of his _ori’vod_ now, and Kenobi seems to draw them out with ease. 

It would kill Cody if he lost them both in these mines. Rex couldn’t do that to his brother; and he refused to be the one to tell Cody his _venriduur_ didn’t survive this mission. “C’mon, sir,” he says out the corner of his mouth, when Kenobi falters at a high-pitched, _young_ scream. “You can’t help them. You just have to keep going.” 

Cody’s General’s arms shake from the strain. Kenobi was fit - but he was athletic, fast. Not strong. He relied on his Force a little too much for manual labour, and now, cut off from it, his body is begging for a break. Even Rex is struggling, and he’s enhanced, his body built to handle things a baseline human couldn’t. But he’s handling it better than the _Jetii,_ and it _burns,_ knowing that Rex can’t help Kenobi. He could handle the pain of the electrostaff, but he couldn’t be used against his General like that. 

Kenobi tries to smile. It’s brittle, and false, but Rex appreciates the effort. “Anakin is coming,” he murmurs, and it’s clear he’s trying to convince himself as much as Rex. 

“Cody’s coming,” Rex replies, because he doesn’t know if his General got free of the Queen or not, but he knows his _ori’vod_ would hunt him down to the ends of the galaxy, and raze the entire Zygerrian Empire while he was at it. Rex isn’t sure of a lot of things in his life, but he is sure of this.

It’s enough to make the smile a little more real, but it disappears as quickly as it appeared, as the guard came back over. 

Cody was coming. He just had to hold onto that. 

* * *

The bunks were bare, and most slaves - _captives,_ he told himself, because he couldn’t think of himself as a slave, not now - seemed to double up. Kenobi and he, by unspoken agreement, crowded into a small top bunk, curling around each other as best they could. Rex couldn’t miss the way Kenobi positioned his back to the open space, forcing Rex up against the wall. 

“Sir,” he starts to protest, uneasy with this arrangement. 

“You are my subordinate, Captain,” Kenobi hisses back. “It is my duty to protect you.” 

“I’m meant to protect you,” he says. 

Kenobi sighs, and shifts so he could look Rex in the eye. “Even if you weren’t, you’re Cody’s _aliit,”_ he tells him, and there’s a fire in him that had been missing earlier. “That makes you mine.” 

Rex swallows, uncomfortable but also touched. “Sir…” 

“My Commander would never forgive me if I didn’t look after you,” he says, and presses his forehead against Rex’s. 

“I told him I’d look out for you,” Rex says, ashamed. “I didn’t take him seriously, but-” 

“How about we take care of each other?” Kenobi interrupts.

“Yeah. Yeah,” he agrees, and tugs Kenobi a little closer. It wasn’t comfortable, and part of Rex ached to be in his brother’s bunk, listening to Cody’s snores and heartbeat. But it was warmer, and it felt a little safer, being close to _aliit._

* * *

They realise, on the second day, exactly how to break the General. 

And they use Rex to do it. 

Rex has been to many planets. He’s heard of many different afterlives, different theories of cosmic retribution, and the kind of punishments that the worst of the worst receive. 

This - this has some of them beat. 

_(he drops the spade, just for a second, but it’s long enough, and the lash_ **_burns_** _, and he grits his teeth, but it comes down, again and again, and again, and Rex has felt pain before, on Saleucami, but nothing like this, and it’s hard to be quiet-_

_“Please!” his General begs. “Please, stop-” )_

He can tell his General regrets the outburst, but Rex _hurts,_ and he wants his brother, wants his _ori’vod,_ more than anything else in the galaxy. 

_My General is coming,_ he thinks, but then he remembers they’d caught his General and ‘Soka too. And then he thinks about ‘Soka, and the role they made her play, and wants to throw up. _Maker, please let her be safe._

_Cody’s coming,_ he tells himself. Even if his General was taken, even if they had their hands on Ahsoka, even if the Senate gave up on them, _Cody_ wouldn’t, wouldn’t forget his General, wouldn’t forget _Rex._ His brother was coming for him. He had to be. 

The second time is worse, the lashes catching his already open wounds, their taunts - aimed at Kenobi, but about him - so much darker, and it makes him feel dirty, but he holds onto the fact that Cody is coming for them.

He knows what the slavers are trying to do. Why they make sure he can see Kenobi watching, every time they single him out. Why they make sure Rex sees when Kenobi falters, moments before his own collar goes off. They want to make him angry. They want to divide them, want to turn them against each other. They want to break them both.

Rex survived Kamino only because his brother loved him, because he was a _vod._ He’s spent his whole life surrounded by _vod’e._ He knows the power of knowing you aren’t alone. 

He looks back at Kenobi, and refuses to blame him. 

Cody is coming, and they have to survive this. Both of them. 

The third time - 

* * *

He wakes up in the bunk, his head on Kenobi’s lap. 

“You need to drink something,” Kenobi says. There’s a dull blankness in his eyes, but he’s gentle with Rex as he places the bottle - likely smuggled under his tunic - to Rex’s mouth. His back screams in agony, and he tries to turn away. “I know, I’m sorry, but you need to, please-” 

It goes on for a good hour, as his General makes him swallow water soaked chunks of bread, forcing him awake. He thinks he hates him, but he doesn’t, because Cody would do the same, and it makes him realise how similar Kenobi is to his brother. 

Eventually, he stops, and rubs his nails along Rex’s scalp, the way Cody does when he’s trying to trick Rex into sleeping, and it’s working despite the pain. Rex reaches up and grabs his wrist. 

“You need to rest too,” he says. 

“I will,” Kenobi says, but somehow, Rex doesn’t believe him. 

“Please,” he pleads, and Kenobi sighs and gives in, maneuvering himself to the side - once again, shielding Rex. 

Rex closes his eyes, and thinks of rescue, and Cody. 

* * *

“I wonder,” the Keeper says, on the third day. “If breaking Kenobi would break you?” 

Rex keeps his eyes downcast, but something inside him squirms. He knows his own strength, he knows he can survive any pain - but Kenobi does too, which is why they target the other slaves, why they target Rex. Unlike Kenobi, he can handle the Togrutans (it’s not right, of course it’s not right, but it’s not personal, and Rex has so many more things to worry about), but if they start on his General - 

“He’s not as strong as you, boy,” Agruss says, and sets the collar off on his General.

Kenobi gasps, and tries to keep working - he knows if he falters Rex’s will go off - but he loses his grip on the shovel and is forced to his knees. Rex’s collar goes off, and Agruss laughs. 

Rex keeps silent. If he says anything, they’ll hurt Kenobi, and that will hurt him. 

“It’s his fault you’ve been hurting,” he looms over Rex, presses close into his space to whisper in his ear. “Don’t you want him to suffer like you have?” 

He clenches his jaw. _Anytime now, Codes,_ he thinks. 

“I think you do,” their captor says musingly, before calling over two guards. “The Jedi has been awfully quiet. I want you to make him _howl_ _._ ” 

The General is silent, but the wetness in his eyes belies the pain. Rex hopes he can read the apology on his face as he is forced to keep working. But even beskar will shatter under enough pressure, and while Cody’s _venriduur_ is strong, he doesn’t have the Force, and Rex breaks when the screaming starts. 

_“Please,”_ he begs, knowing everything will get so much worse from now on, but unable to stop himself. “Please, please, take me instead -” 

“Rex, no,” Kenobi pants, but breaks off when the lash comes down again. 

Agruss kicks the downed Jedi, and laughs.

* * *

Wherever Kenobi is, it isn’t here, with his body. 

Rex has seen troopers like this, after bad battles, in medbay with lost limbs or lost _cyare’se,_ trooper’s whose mind had retreated somewhere that the war couldn’t touch them. It’s Rex’s turn to take care of his one day _vod de riduurok,_ his _aliit._

“It’s just some water, sir,” he promises, and Kenobi swallows numbly. Part of Rex wants to join him in that far-away place, but Kenobi took care of him yesterday, and now it seems like it’s Rex’s turn. 

“Sir - Obi-Wan,” he corrects himself, because what do ranks matter here? “You need to eat.” 

The man blinks, shakes his head. 

“Please,” he tries. “You need to keep up your strength.” 

“No,” the Jedi says, when Rex brings bread up to his lips. “Can’t.” 

“Can’t, or -” 

The words are slow to come, but frankly, Rex’s glad Obi-Wan is speaking at all. “Feel sick.”

“Okay,” he soothes, and shifts himself so it’s his back to the guards, taking the position Obi-Wan had been claiming. 

It’s so quiet for so long, he almost thinks Obi-Wan has fallen asleep, before he hears, “It’s only been three days. They’ll find us.” 

Rex swallows, because it sounds like Obi-Wan is trying to convince himself as much as anything. “Cody’s coming,” he promises. 

He knows this in his soul. But he hopes he comes soon, because Rex doesn’t know how much longer they can take. Doesn’t know how much of them will be left to save. 

“Cody’s coming,” Obi-Wan repeats, and tangles his fingers with Rex’s. 

* * *

If Rex is honest, he remembers very little from the last day. 

He remembers the death trap for the colonists. He remembers hearing Dooku. 

He remembers Agruss’ taunting, when Obi-Wan got his ‘saber back. He remembers the way Obi-Wan had nodded to him, the vicious satisfaction Rex had felt after, seeing the way Agruss has been impaled. He remembers thinking, _so that’s why Obi-Wan couldn’t kill him himself._

He thinks he remembers Wolffe, wrapping an arm over his shoulder, helping him towards the medbay. “We’ve got you, _Rex’ika,”_ Cody’s batchmate had murmured. “You’re safe now.” 

He remembers getting back onboard the Resolute, only moving when he knew Obi-Wan was coming too. He remembers refusing the bacta tank, remembers his General’s desperate glances at him, remembers trying to stop the medics from separating them. He remembers Kix, easing the hypo into his neck, whispering apologies as they take Obi-Wan away. 

* * *

- _a hand, running over his hair, tugging the blankets up-_

_-Ahsoka’s voice, and a hand holding his own-_

_-“he’ll wake up when he’s ready,” Kix, that’s Kix, why is Kix there-_

“It’s alright,” a man says, and as rough as the voice is, he’d recognise Cody anywhere. “You’re safe.” 

“C’dy,” he slurs, blinking up at the hazy outline of his brother in the too-bright lights of medbay. 

“Hey,” Cody says, and it sounds like he’s smiling, but it’s off in a way he’s not awake enough to understand. “It’s okay, you can go back to sleep.” 

“Nnn. ‘Soka?”

Cody huffs. “Your Commander is alright. Worried about you.” 

“Obi?” 

“Better than you. He got in the bacta tank, unlike a certain _utreekov_ I know.” 

“You?

Cody laughs. It sounds brittle. “You would ask that, wouldn’t you? I’m not the one who got caught by slavers.” 

“Mm. Good. Love you,” Rex manages, feeling darkness pull him under again. 

“Love you too, _vod’ika,”_ he hears, and lips brush his forehead, before he’s out again.

* * *

There’s a moment after he wakes up where he doesn’t remember anything, until a familiar voice speaks. “Good morning,” his brother’s General says, and he sits bolt upright, regretting the decision immediately when reminded of his injuries.

“Ahsoka is alright, so is Anakin,” Obi-Wan soothed. “We’re safe, Rex.” 

Rex blinks himself into full awareness, realising Obi-Wan is on the bed next to him, propped up by numerous pillows. “Safe?” 

“We’re all safe, I promise. Cody left to get changed - he’ll be upset you woke up without him. I don’t think he’s left the medbay since we were brought in.” 

Rex lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “You’re -” 

“Better, now that I’ve had a few hours in bacta - I suggest you let the nice medics do the same to you,” Obi-Wan tells him. 

Rex shakes his head before thinking better of it when his muscles scream in agony. “Shouldn’t waste bacta on me,” he says, and tries to ignore the pit in his stomach at the thought of being so helpless.

“It wouldn’t be a waste to ease your pain, Rex,” Obi-Wan says gently. Rex swallows, and looks away. He can’t - he needs to be the Captain again. He needs to feel in control. He can’t do that, drugged up and floating in a bacta tank. 

There’s silence for a long time, before Rex can speak again. “Just for the record, I would appreciate it if we don’t do this again.” 

“What? You didn’t enjoy our host’s wonderful hospitality?” the Jedi asks wryly, but the humour falls flat. Rex remembers he wasn’t the only one who broke in the mines. Obi-Wan - no, General Kenobi, they were out, Rex was just a soldier again - broke first; shattered like the glasses in ‘79’s did whenever Fives was in their vicinity. Rex wondered if Cody could piece them both back together again, or if he and the General would always carry the burdens they’d picked up on Kadavo forever.

“Not really, no,” he says, and tries to offer a smile. 

Obi-Wan ( _the General_ , come on Rex) tilts the corner of his mouth up, and his fringe flops over his eyes. He looks - tired, and fragile, but there’s a core of steel there too. Maybe he wasn’t as broken as Rex had thought, because Rex sure as hell doesn’t have any reserves left in him.

“Yes, well, when I had planned to spend some time with you, I had hoped we would have bonded over making fun of Cody, and not - this.” 

“You had-” 

The General smiles. “You’re the most important person in the world to my - closest friend,” he says. “And I consider you a friend myself, Rex.” 

Rex blinks. Then, because he grew up with Cody, and the mines might have broken him, but they hadn’t made him less of an asshole, he smirks. “Well, next time, you should just buy a round at ‘79’s.” 

Obi-Wan throws his head back and laughs. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, and maybe - maybe they’ll be alright. 

Maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando’a  
> Jetii - Jedi  
> Cyare - Beloved/Loved One  
> Aliit - Clan/Family  
> Vod’e - Siblings  
> Ori’vod - Older/Big Sibling  
> Venriduur - Future Spouse  
> Cyare’se - Loved Ones  
> Vod de riduurok - Sibling by Marriage (thanks to RobinPlaysTrumpet15)  
> Utreekov - Lit. Emptyhead, Idiot

**Author's Note:**

> if you've got anything you want to see in this universe (I have...only very vague plans), send them to my tumblr, under the same name!


End file.
